


Hunt

by LectorEl



Series: Hound [2]
Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-09
Updated: 2013-01-09
Packaged: 2017-11-24 07:20:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/631875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LectorEl/pseuds/LectorEl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hound is not harmless.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hunt

Hound does not look like a threat. He is small and pale, with long, dark hair and guileless eyes. And this seems to cause people to forget that Hound has been the companion of Ra’s al Ghul for nearly half a decade. A man who means to rule the world, who was as ancient as he was ruthless. Hound is not harmless.

It is true that he does not care for violence, and that left alone, there is no danger to him. But Hound is never alone. He walks behind his master, sits at his feet, and sleeps on the floor beside his bed. Death is a constant companion.

There is blood enough on his hands to make rivers run red. Because while Hound is his Master’s pet, he is also his hunting dog. Hound carries no weapons because he has no need of them, not because he is peaceful.

“Hound?” Master asks, the command unspoken but still clear. There is a traitor loose in the base, they have been told.

Hound dips his head in acknowledgement, rising from his position at Master’s feet. “Of course, Master.” The messenger who brought the news pales, but Hound brushes past him without response. He is not the target his Master has set him upon.

Hound closes the study behind him, and sets out into the base, a ghost moving through the hallways. A shadow that makes not a sound and leaves not a single trace. It is his nature- there is so little substance to him compared to other people. He is not nearly real enough to mark the world so glaringly, as others do.

The messenger said the traitor had fled to the east wing. The man may have moved since then, but it is the best place to start his hunt.

There are signs of combat at the wing’s entrance, and a few fallen men. Hound pauses to check their vitals. All dead. He moves the bodies to one side of the entrance hall, and continues his hunt. There is more destruction as he moves further inwards. More corpses.  Hound sets his jaw. He disapproves of such needless waste.

He corners the traitor in one of the smaller dormitories. “Will you surrender?”

The man spits a curse, and lunges for one of the small windows. Hound sighs, the slightest exhalation of breath. They never surrender. Hound does not understand it. Death at his hands is surely preferable to the torture experienced by the ones who were ‘brought to justice’ before his master.

It is not Hound’s place to wonder over such things. His task is to hunt, not philosophize.  He pulls himself up on the window’s ledge, and slides through to the outside. The grounds of this base are not as familiar to him as some, but there are patterns to these things.

Hound ignore the obvious path the traitor had left, following instead one of the hidden paths that led straight to the inner gate. The traitor was likely heading that way, and it was easier to cut him off there than go chasing him through the underbrush.

When the man emerges from the greenery, minutes after Hound’s own arrival, he almost has the urge to smile. This time, there is nowhere for the man to run.

Hound acts quickly. He is not unmerciful.

The man likely did not even hear Hound’s approach before death took him. Hound rolls the body out of the way of the gate, alongside the wall. It will keep there until someone has time to retrieve it.

Hound wipes his bloody hands on the corpse’s shirt, and begins walking back to the base. He takes the back ways to avoid being seen. The eyes of others beside his master’s are uncomfortable. There is a weight and judgment to their gaze that Hound dislikes.

“Your hunt was successful, pet?” Master asks, setting aside the document he is reviewing when Hound slides into his office through the side door.

Hound nods, folding himself down beside master’s chair. “Of course, sir.” Sometimes Hound does not understand his master. He would not have returned if his task was incomplete, as master himself taught him. Why would he even need to ask?


End file.
